Step One
by Aaron Cronin
Summary: Tony has made a major decision. But does he have what it takes to follow through?


Step One

Tony has made a major decision. But does he have what it takes to follow through?

* * *

My first fanfic here, so constructive feedback is definitely appreciated. _De_structive feedback is not.

Generic disclaimer: "Iron Man" and the characters of Tony, Pepper and Happy are property of Marvel Entertainment and Paramount Pictures. They aren't mine, I'm not even remotely CONSIDERING trying to make any money off them, yabbada yabbada yabbada. So keep the lawyers in their kennels, all right?

The character of Pete Wettig, however, IS mine. But if you want to use him for _your_ fanfic, ask nicely and promise me he won't be in any sex scenes and I'll likely say yes. No charge.

This one is dedicated to Pastor Eddie.

* * *

Tony Stark was in the back of his limousine as it tooled east on Highway 1 toward the Los Angeles basin. Fidgeting.

_Crap, I don't have to do this. Why is this meeting even necessary? I can ..._

He sighed. Most likely, he couldn't. And much as he hated to admit it, he knew it. Part of him wanted to back out, to run away as fast as possible. And when you're a billionaire industrialist with residences on five continents, running away was easy.

But another part of him, a slightly larger part, was holding his feet to the fire. Insisting that this time around, he needed to do, not the easy thing, but the right thing.

This was going to be harder than he'd originally thought. But at least he wasn't going into it alone. _And that, so-called Iron Man, is why you've got the lifeline_, he thought to himself as he flipped open his cell phone and picked a number off speed-dial.

The other end of the line rang once, and then ... "No, Tony. You need to do this."

Tony couldn't help but smile. As always, Pepper Potts, his omnicompetent personal assistant, was a couple of steps ahead of him. "C'mon, Pep. Isn't this a little ... drastic?"

"No, it's not all that drastic – not even for a billionaire. Millions of people have done it for years."

"But seriously, I don't need to go to this meeting ..."

"No man is an island, Tony."

"Thank you, John Donne," he grumbled. He could feel the limo shift as Happy Hogan, his faithful chauffeur, turned inland toward his destination. "It's my own business – why can't I just take care of it on my own? I got myself into this; I should be able to get myself out of it, right?"

He could hear a sigh on the other end. "But if you were able to do that, you would have done it already," Pepper replied bluntly.

"Ouch." It was true, though. He had been trying to for months, without success. "Still, there are other ways ..."

"... that are more drastic than this," Pepper interrupted. "And less effective in the long run. And you'd feel even more frustrated. And ..."

Tony shook his head in amazement. He had called her up because he'd _wanted_ her to shoot down his excuses – but he didn't realize she'd be so effective! "Okay, okay, I get it!"

"Tony ..." His assistant's voice suddenly took on a note of tenderness. "Why don't you just tell me the truth?"

Tony sat stunned. He had to stop and think for a few seconds before he realized what the truth was, and another few before he could force it out of his mouth. Had it been anyone else on the line, he wouldn't have been able to do even that. "I'm ..." He swallowed. "I'm scared, Pep."

Her voice was still soft. "Go on."

He looked down and noticed his left knee bouncing nervously. He stopped it with his free hand. "I'm about to walk into somewhere I've never been, with a bunch of people I don't know, and just ... just dump all this on them, and I don't know what's going to happen! I can't draw up a schematic for this, I can't have JARVIS plot out probabilities. I'm flying blind, and ... and they could just eat me alive." His knee began bobbing again. _Stop that!_ "And what am I supposed to do then? I can't run away, 'cause it'll just make things worse! Damn it ... I'm riding in a limo into ... into _Westwood_, and yet I haven't been this scared since Obie tried to fling me into frigging orbit! This is nuts! This is ... this is ..." He ran out of steam, unable to continue.

Pepper's voice stayed gentle, but with a hint of steel in it. "Tony ... you can do this. And you need to do this. If you're going to be running a Fortune 50 company _and_ being Iron Man _and_ everything else you have on your plate, you need to be at your best. And you're not going to be your best without taking care of this. You know that as well as I do."

Even though Pepper couldn't see him, Tony found himself nodding. "Can't argue."

"And remember, Pete Wettig will be there." Paul was a vice-president of one of Stark Industries' major component suppliers; they'd known each other for a decade. "He's been where you are, and so has everyone else who'll be there. You're going to have more help than you can imagine. And not one of them is going to attack you."

"You're sure of this."

"As sure as I am that you can handle this. And that it's necessary. Necessary for Stark Industries, for the people Iron Man is supposed to help, for your well-being ..."

"Necessary for you?" Tony blurted out. "For ... us?"

The silence was like a stone wall.

"No, let me take that back, that wasn't really appropri ..."

"Tony. If ..." A sigh, a swallow. "If ... there were ever going to be an ... an "us" ... this is ... one of the things that would have to happen first."

Tony blinked. That was more than he had expected. More than he could have hoped for. "Well, um ... that should be motivation enough for almost any man."

He swore he could _hear_ her blushing over the phone. "Just ... take care of business, okay?"

"Okay. I will." He thought about it, then repeated more forcefully, "I _will_. I promise. And Pep?"

"Yes, Tony?"

"Thank you. I owe you big time for this."

"I'll keep that in mind when Christmas rolls around." Another silence. Then, with a smile in her voice: "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

Tony suppressed a laugh. "That will be all, Ms. Potts." He cut the connection and shook his head, then looked at the now-deactivated phone. "I don't deserve you, Virginia."

Soon enough, the limo was approaching its destination, a large but not palatial home not far from the UCLA campus. Tony took a deep breath and tried to relax. _I can do this. I am, after all ... a superhero._ The silliness of the thought seemed to do the trick, for the moment.

Finally the car stopped. Tony got out and walked over to the driver's side window. "So, Happy, what are you gonna do while I'm in there?"

Happy shrugged and smiled. "Eh, I figured I'd head over by the school, grab a burger ... do some coed-watching."

"Go get 'em, stud. I'll call you when I'm done." Tony patted the top of the limo, Happy drove off, and Tony headed toward the front door, trying _not_ to think of the Charge of the Light Brigade ...

A lucky break. The door opened before he could knock, and staring out at him was Pete Wettig. "Tony, glad you could make it! How are you doing?"

Tony stepped inside and shook Pete's hand. "Doing ... all right. A little nervous ..." He paused "More than a little."

Pete gave him a knowing look.

Tony sighed and shook his head. "I'm frightened out of my mind," he said, resignation in his voice but a smile growing on his face.

Pete was smiling too. "Been there, Tony. We all have. But you're gonna be okay."

"So I'm told," Tony replied, more willing than convinced. He walked into the next room, where about a dozen chairs were arrayed in a circle. All but two were filled. Tony only recognized one other person, a fairly well-known Hollywood director, but he didn't think it was the appropriate time to say, _I like your work_. There was business that had to come first.

After a few minutes more of small talk, one of the other men spoke up. "Now, it looks like we have someone new here ..." He looked over at Pete, who turned to Tony and patted him on the back.

_The moment of truth._ Tony stood up, but couldn't seem to stop staring at his shoes. "Hi." He took a deep breath, let it out. "My name is Tony ... and I'm an alcoholic."

A chorus in reply. "Hi, Tony ..."

# # #


End file.
